Hello
by S. Snowflake
Summary: Written before the sequel's release. The winter after Mumble's heroic journey has proven a long one for our penguin hero. Now he waits for his own egg to hatch, but is just a little unsure of fatherhood. Will have an original character, so if you don't like that, don't read.


_Author's Note/Disclaimer: This may well be my favorite of the "Happy Feet" short stories that I wrote throughout the two years I spent working on them. While now it really amounts to nothing except an alternate universe with the sequel and all that, I still get a sense of joy reading over it. I hope that you enjoy this ficlet too. _

_I do not own Mumble, Memphis, or the Amigos. I only created an OC and a story that went along with "Happy Feet," which I do not claim to own either._

_Enjoy!_

_*S. Snowflake

* * *

_

_**Hello**_

**-A Happy Feet Story.**

With the coming of the sun, the great, Antarctic winter had finally passed. No longer did the frigid winds and icy blasts of snow blow across the great, ancient glaciers that the Emperor Penguins called home. The sun's return also brought light to the ice bird fathers so that they could finally witness the one thing that they had been waiting for all winter long: the hatching of their eggs.

Already there were many new faces in Emperorland, as the Emperor penguins called their home. Young penguins with their creamy white faces framed by a black "bonnet" tentatively waddled around on their tiny penguin feet, taking in the great, icy land around them. Meanwhile, their fathers loved and cared for them with the little strength they had left from the long winter night. They would have to love them alone until the mothers returned from fishing out in the great sea.

One penguin stood near the rear of the crowd, watching all of the others tend to their chicks with a smile on his face. It was a pleasant scene to look at, and he hoped to join the circle of new fathers soon. He lifted the feathers near his feet just a little and peeked at his own egg. It had an almost snow white shell, but little gray speckles dotted its surface as well. The sight of it made his icy blue eyes sparkle and his uniquely gray, downy feathers bristled a little in the slightly warmer breeze.

_Come on, little guy… or girl,_ he thought. _I know you're in there. I've been real good for you. You have no idea how hard it's been keeping from dancing all winter…_

The fluffy penguin was a talented tap dancer, but he had to fight that talent during the winter. He knew that if he was going to be a father, he would have to keep his egg balanced gently on his feet–the very instruments that gave him his gift. It had been a trial to not give in to his desires.

"Mumble," said the deeper voice of a large, male penguin as he walked toward the smaller, downier penguin that had been watching his egg. "Mumble boy, how you doin?" he asked.

"Hi, Pa," greeted Mumble as he looked down at the egg resting on his feet. "I'm doing fine, just, well…"

His father clucked lightly in his throat. "Don't you worry 'bout it, son. You've done a good job keeping that egg warm."

"I guess so," Mumble said and covered the egg once more. "But how can you know if something's gone wrong?"

Memphis paused. "Well, I reckon you can't, son," he finally said and patted his son's back with a flipper. "Only the Great Guin knows. But I'd bet that things'll turn out alright in the end. You'll see."

Mumble tried to smile as his father left his side and rejoined the older penguins in the huddle, but he could not help but still feel fearful and alone. He was just about to check on the egg again when suddenly there a faint voice came from over the hill.

"Hola, fluffy!" it called to him.

Mumble turned around to see five, jet-black forms bobsledding behind down the nearby hill. Sure enough, they were his Adelie penguin friends, and they landed in front of him one by one.

"Amigos!" he shouted back. "Rinaldo! Lombardo! Raul! Nestor, and…" He waited for the final penguin to come down. The last one crashed into a snow bank before Mumble greeted him. "Ramon! Buenos dias!"

"Buenos dias!" all five of the penguins said, except for Ramon who was still recovering from the crash.

"E-y-y, tall boy," the dizzy Ramon muttered and gave him a hug when he could finally stand up on his own.

"So where's your little nino?" said the smallest penguin, Raul.

"Yeah, I wanna see!" added Lombardo.

"Still not here yet," Mumble said, and showed them his un-hatched egg before covering it back up from the cold. "So, how's winter been for you guys?"

"Cold and boring," answered Nestor. "The chicas didn't like our lovestones."

"Oh, sorry. How's Lovelace doing?" Mumble asked, changing the subject.

"Lovelace? He's traveling around," said Rinaldo.

"–'He telling your story!" added Lombardo.

"Wow, really?" asked Mumble. "All that news over a little fish."

"Believe me, tall boy, it's more than a little fish now," said Nestor.

"Ey, fluffy, lemme see the little huevo," Ramon said, bringing the egg back into the penguins' talk. Mumble carefully balanced the egg on his feet to expose it as his friend pecked it with his beak.

"Hey, come out little nino!" Ramone commanded, as if he had power over the unborn chick. He grew frustrated when nothing happened and said, "Lemme tell something to 'jou! You either come outta' there, or I come in and get 'jou myself!"

"Ramon, I don't think it can hear you," said Rinaldo.

"You see, you see, it'll come out now," Ramon flaunted proudly and waited for the egg to hatch. He sat there silently for a while, a good two minutes, then grew impatient. "What's wrong with 'jou?" he yelled and began crying loudly. "You don't like your uncle Ramon? 'Jou haven't even met me yet! Why? Why?"

"Egh, we're gonna need to get rid of him for a while, tall boy," said Nestor.

"Sorry 'bout this," added Rinaldo as he started dragging Ramon away by a flipper as he bawled dramatically.

"See you, fluffy!" cried Raul from the five Adelies waddling away in the distance.

Mumble laughed as his friends left, then looked down at his egg once more. His eyes opened and closed a few times before he yawned and said, "Well, if Ramon can't make anything happen, I guess I'd better keep waiting."

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"Mm, Gloria," muttered Mumble as he slept later that day, "–I just gotta dance one more time…"

Slowly, Mumble's feet began to tap, gently moving along with some imaginary beat, and he turned sharply, sleep dancing. The speckled egg began to slip across his grey, flabby feet, twirling in its own "dance". It spun around on Mumble's tappers, until, eventually, it bounced right out of Mumble's brood pouch.

Mumble might not have noticed the missing egg if he hadn't woken up from the dream then. He gasped when he saw his egg sliding away, then he belly slid toward it and instantly covered it back up from the cold.

"There, there, now," he said to the egg in slight panic that it might have gotten too cold and have chilled the baby inside. "It's okay, I've got ya. Y-you'll be fine," he muttered to the slightly chillier egg. He began bouncing the egg on his toes for a sign, and continued to mutter, "We'll be okay."

Then something happened. The egg bounced back!

"Whoa!" cried Mumble as he felt his egg twitching about on his feet. It rolled onto the ice again, but this time it danced around by itself. Mumble watched his egg slowly spin around and around a few times before…

CRACK!

Out came a tiny penguin foot, kicking and moving about on the ice.

"Hey!" Mumble said to the little penguin foot before another foot broke through the bottom and found its slippery footing.

"Can you hear me?" Mumble asked the baby that was moving around underneath the speckled eggshell.

There were a few muffled sounds from beneath the spinning eggshell before a tiny voice answered, "I think so… Where are you?"

Mumble nudged the egg with his beak. "I'm over here. Come on, you can do it. Just, you know, push that shell off your head."

"Moh, m-okay," answered the baby. Then two flippers emerged from underneath and the egg shook once more as the slippery ice carried the baby away. It traveled down a small slope of snow and ice until, finally, it slid and gently struck the side of an icicle, breaking right in two. The two halves of the eggshell framed the damp, feathery chick that lay sprawled out, half covered in powder.

"You okay?" Mumble asked as he belly slid down to the chick.

The baby began to shiver a little in the cold before standing and looking up at Mumble with blurry, but lovely, brown eyes. Mumble could see a hint of icy green mixed within the brown irises.

"Wowie, it's bright out here!" the baby exclaimed.

"Heh, you'll get used to it," Mumble replied, just as his father had said to him when he was a chick, and helped the little penguin get on its feet. "Now, let's see here… Ah, you're a girl!"

"I am?"

Mumble laughed again at the little girl. "Sure are. Now, what'd Gloria wanna name a girl again?" He thought about it for a moment then said, "Oh, I remember. Chloe. Your name's Chloe."

"It is? You mean, I'm not _Ah-girrl_?" asked the baby penguin as she scratched her fuzzy head with her right flipper.

Mumble laughed more deeply then. "No, no. I mean, you like Chloe, don'tcha?"

"Uh-huh. Chloe… I'll try to remember. Um, what do I call you, mister?" Chloe asked.

Mumble thought about it, and almost couldn't believe himself when he said, "Well, you can call me Pa, I guess."

Chloe either liked that, or she was very cold, as she started shivering and bouncing on her feet. "Okay, Pa."

Her father noticed how she was shivering and smiled. "Come on. Get on my feet and get warm. Can't have you freezing to death."

Chloe did as she was told and promptly snuggled into her father's brood pouch where she was safe and warm again. She found Mumble's feathers to be strangely familiar, and she nestled in them comfortably.

Mumble smiled, in awe that his egg had hatched and he was now a father. For once in his life, he couldn't quite feel those happy feet as he stepped forward toward the rest of the colony. He more than anything wanted to sing his heart out then, but instead stretched his head out and leaned it back with joy.

A few warmer minutes later, little Chloe poked her black-bonneted head out and looked up at her father with a smile on her face. "Hello, Pa!"

The fluffy penguin looked down and smiled before he nuzzled his daughter's little beak. All he could say in response was, "Hello."

**The End.**


End file.
